First Impressions
by Psyromayniak
Summary: An alternative meeting for Marik and Bakura. Marik is in a pub, sulking, and gets some unwanted attention from some girls, so be saved by someone rather a lot more interesting. One shot.   Warning: Thiefshipping MarikXBakura, and sugestiveness.


First Impressions 

Marik sat at the bar of the Horse and Groom pub. It was a Friday night, he was alone and he was getting over himself. He had broken up with his boyfriend-of-four-months after a particularly sensitive incident, and felt rather depressed. To make things worse, a pair of girls on a near-by table had been eyeing him up for the last fifteen minutes, and it was starting to grate on him. He kept his head down, and signalled to the bar-man, flashing his fake ID and ordering a drink. This was going to be a long night.

Glancing behind him, Marik hunched over as he saw the girls look in his direction again and get up. They sauntered over, wearing the prettiest of smiles and pushing their chests out in front of them. They exerted over-confidence, and the main intention of their move showed obviously in their faces.

'Hi,' the tallest of the pair, with blond highlights in her loosely ponytailed hair, said, as she leaned on the section of the bar next to Marik.

Marik looked at her and groaned inwardly, 'uh, hi,' he took a sip of his drink.

'My name's Charlotte,' she smiled and tilted her head to one side, 'what's yours?'

Marik gave her what he hoped was a glare – but probably wasn't... he wasn't really too good at that sort of thing – 'it's Marik.'

'Well, Marik, it's _very _nice to meet you...' Charlotte slid her hand over the bar toward him.

'Uhh... thanks, but I'm really not-' Marik was cut off by the girl undoing the top button of her casual white shirt, exposing the tops of her breasts and almost making Marik gag.

'We'll get on just fine I think,' she laughed in a shrill, almost forced way, and played with a strand of her fringe.

'I'm not interested, sorry,' Marik turned back to his drink, hoping against hope that, if he was lucky, the girl would leave. Luck was, as usual, against him.

'Your girlfriend more of a looker than me then?' she laughed again and moved herself closer, so the twin abominations on her chest were almost pressed into Marik's face.

'No, I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm not interested,' the pitch of Marik's voice got higher with the insistence in his voice.

'I don't think so... I can see it in your eyes,' she leaned closer and placed her hand on his leg, whispering in his ear, 'you want me'

Marik nearly spat his drink all over the bar in shock, shying away from her touch, 'N-no. No, I

really, _really _don't. Really!' he dug his nails slightly into the bar.

'I think you have to try me out first before you decide that, at least for a bit' she pulled a sad face, sticking her bottom lip out. Marik tried to slide back off his barstool, only to hit the stomach of the girls' friend, who had obviously gone round behind to watch.

'Gah...' Marik was trapped. How was he going to get out of this?

A strong hand was placed firmly on the bar and a body stepped in between Marik and the girl. It spoke, 'Hey, are these girls bothering you?' the accent was British, deep and husky, and the comment was directed at Marik, although he wasn't facing him.

'Uh... Yes. Yes they are...' Marik replied and watched with a smug satisfaction as both girls sloped off, but groaned in despair when he realized that he would probably have to explain to this man that he was a guy, and not a girl as many people tended to assume. 'Thanks for that but-' his words caught in his throat as the man turned around.

Marik took in the long locks of white hair falling in cascades over his shoulders, the pale-as-porcelain skin and the large, hazel eyes that seemed to swallow him up. His heart began to beat faster and he could feel a blush slowly creeping into his cheeks. The man smiled at him. _Almost seductively, _thought Marik, _but surely I'm seeing things... he can't possibly be interested in-_

'I'm Bakura,' he said, his voice seemingly rougher than before, and held out his right hand. Slowly, Marik took it with his own, concentrating on not seeming too eager, or too tentative... just in case.

'Uh, hi. I'm Marik...' Bakura shook, and Marik savoured the moment before letting go and looking back at his glass, which was now empty, again.

Following his eyes, Bakura leaned on the bar next to him, 'it's nice to meet you, Marik. What are you drinking?'

'Sorry, what?' Marik looked at Bakura a little confusedly.

Bakura rolled his eyes, 'your glass is empty. What are you drinking?'

'Ohh... JD and coke,' Marik did a mental face-palm, he was probably making a complete fool of himself.

'Good choice,' Bakura clicked at the barman who indicated with a complicated one-handed gesture that he would love to help, but he was in the middle of serving someone else, and Bakura would kindly have to wait his bloody turn.

While waiting for the barman to finish, Bakura turned to Marik, who had been gazing at him while he wasn't looking and was now trying to hide the fact by examining a very interesting indent in the bar-top.

'So, Marik, what's an attractive guy like you be doing in a rather unattractive place like this?' Bakura met Marik's eyes and smiled casually.

'I was, well... I was sulking,' Marik looked down as he said it, then gave himself another mental face-palm and looked up again, recognising – if belatedly – the obvious pick-up line. He stared at Bakura in surprise, _He _is _interested in me! Or is he? _Marik turned his head to look behind them, searching for a group of friends laughing at the super-cool dare, but found none. Too often had Marik been disappointed by seemingly nice guys who had drunkenly been dared to 'go pull the gay kid'. _Bakura really is interested!_

His cheeks began to turn an intriguing shade of deep scarlet as Bakura ran his eyes over his body, before turning quickly to pay for their drinks.

'It's rather loud over here... would you like to come over to my table? It's the one by the fire-place. We can talk there,' Bakura picked up his drink and started toward the table with a confident stride. Even if Marik had wanted to, he couldn't have stayed where he was, so he grabbed his drink and followed.

The table was small, squarish, and had a chair at either end padded with faded red cotton. The wood was deep brown with varnish, wood smoke and a thin layer of spilt beer. Bakura sat closest to the fire, leaning back in his chair and gazing into Marik's large, violet eyes. Marik was perched on the edge of his chair, elbows on the table and listening to the deep THUMP-THUMP of his heart, racing with adrenalin, his hands shake slightly. This was real. Really real. Really, really, real...

Bakura leaned forward, holding Marik's gaze and placing his hands on the table. The fire light caught his skin, illuminating him with an iridescent glow.

'Now Marik,' he husked, 'do tell me _all _about yourself.'

**Huzzah! Random spontaneous idea down on paper! (well... on a word document) Well, this has been going round in my head for a couple of days, so I thought I might as well write it down. **

**What did you think?**

**xx Xezbeth xx**


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